A new day

Anna has been at the hospital "alone" for the longest time since she was first admitted.  "Alone" is a very relative term.  Not only does she have many, many people employed by the hospital watching over her, but she always has Jesus with her.

Still, it's the longest time that we have been away from the hospital in weeks and it feels kind of weird.

I just spoke with Anna's palliative care nurse practitioner (yet another person who is watching over Anna, although her job is to coordinate and keep an eye on Anna's overall care and comfort).  Lynne said Anna is doing great.  She tolerated her radiation and chemotherapy very well this morning and is very comfortable.  Lynne said that while Anna was having her bath this morning, she woke up slightly and was able to respond to the nurse by squeezing her hand appropriately.  Lynne said this means that Anna is exactly where they want her to be ... calm and comfortable, but not so sedated that she's completely unaware.  Whew.  Relief.

I will probably head to the hospital tomorrow morning just to be there in person for the morning rounds, but otherwise we're not planning on having a sustained presence at the hospital again until Anna is awake and alert (and we're not feeling guilty about that decision).  Selfishly,  I'm looking forward to having a break from the back and forth routines of the last few weeks.  It's going to feel really good to ride in a vehicle with Matt again and to sleep in our own bed for a few consecutive nights :)

In reflecting on the experiences of Tuesday evening and overnight on Tuesday, we do not regret any decisions we made.  They were the right decisions to make at the time with the information that was available to everyone at the time.  However, the head neurosurgeon stopped by our room at one point yesterday and apologized for how some things were presented to us on Tuesday night.  We were not given much hope at that point and I think he would have liked to have presented information to us differently.  But that is all in the past and today is a new day.

Now we have hope.  After witnessing Anna's motivation, determination, and progress during her therapy sessions early this week, and now realizing the kind of pain she must have been in at that time, we know that Anna will make amazing progress when the cancer is gone.  It will still be a long road, but now we (and others at the hospital) know what she is capable of.

Time for prayers

Thanksgiving
Please give thanks that Anna is safe and comfortable.
Please give thanks that Anna's radiation and chemotherapy has already started!
Please give thanks that the rest of our family gets a bit of a break from the crazy routines (or lack there of).
Please give thanks that we will not be having to travel back and forth to Chicago for treatments.
Please thank God for the strength Matt and I had to get through the wild ride on Tuesday and Wednesday.
Please give thanks for the amazing nurses Anna has had this week.  As I've said before, they are all good.  However, this week Anna's nurses have been exceptional.

Requests
Please ask God to watch over Anna's safety and comfort while she is on the respirator.
Please pray that the radiation and chemotherapy completely wipe out the cancer cells invading Anna's body.
Please pray for continued wisdom and strength for Matt, me, and all of Anna's care providers.
Please ask God to bless our family time this weekend, and to give us some much needed physical and emotional rest.
Please pray for those who are coordinating the benefit for Anna next weekend.  It looks like some of us may be able to attend now that we're not in Chicago!

At the start of this journey my mom reminded me of a poem that had been on her mind.  I'd like to share it now because I think it contains a good message.  We realized afresh this week how God has his own plans for our family and we have no clue what they might be.  For example, if we had been headed to Chicago this past Monday, things could have turned out very differently for Anna.  God knows more than we could ever hope to understand.

"The Weaver"
My Life is but a weaving
between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper,
And I the under side.

Not til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares,
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those
Who leave the choice with Him.